


As You Like It

by emulationgame



Category: Sex Education (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-10 11:16:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17424860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emulationgame/pseuds/emulationgame
Summary: Having a sex therapist as a mother is not as cool as it seems, and when Otis's prying mother gets on his last nerve, he hatches a plan to get her off of his back. Enter Maeve Wiley, Otis's new acquaintance and someone who could use some cash. If they do this right, they just might be able to pull this off.Or the fake relationship au nobody asked for





	1. o Captian! My Captain!

**Author's Note:**

> I binged Sex Education in one sitting and I am obsessed with Otis and Maeve. I wrote this for fun, I already have three chapters written but I am editing them now so let me know if there is anything specific you want to see in the upcoming chapters, and thank you so much for reading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was born form me binging the series in one sitting and seeing a lack of Otis/Maeve content. It wasn't supposed to be a slow burn but it kinda looks like its going to be so be patient with me and lets see where this goes.

Otis was laying in bed staring blankly at the ceiling. Eric had canceled their planned town venture at the last minute because swing band practice got rescheduled (apparently Mr. Hendricks finally pestered some poor woman into going on  a date). So that left Otis here, in bed, alone, in the quiet because “music travels and it makes my clients irritabel, so if you could refrain from listening to it during my sessions I would be very grateful”. Ugh, what did she know, it was always clients this, clients that. It got old very quick, which is why Otis liked to leave during these sessions.

Eric always talked about how cool it would be to have a sex therapist for a mother, but he didn't realize how fast the novelty could wear off. Otis thinks the time his mother left a bottle of lube on his bed to “help you reach climax” (or so the post it note attached claimed) might have been when it started going south. Or maybe it was when she referred to his english partner’s sperm as “man milk”(why she even brought up his sperm in the first place he didn't know). Or it could have even been when she showed him the extensive collection of medical textbooks about STIs. The bottom line was that having the knowledgeable sex therapist Dr. Jean Milburn as a mother wasn't as fun as it sounds.

Otis could hear the muffled voices from all the way downstairs and his curiosity got the better of him. He slowly stood up and made his way to his door to see if he could get a better understanding of the voices in the hall. As he got closer he realized the voices weren't coming from outside of his door, but traveling through the aircon vents on the skirting board. He plopped on the ground, leaned his weight against the wall, closed his eyes, and started listening.

“He can’t get his rocks off unless I call him captain. How do you think I feel?” A woman spoke.

“Descriptive words Angela,” his mother’s voice responded.

“I feel controlled and uncomfortable, and like... just being me isn't enough,” she said.

“And Andrew, what do you have to say to that?” His mother spoke again.

“I do like the control, the bedroom is the only place you’ll let me have any, and it feels nice when I know what’s going to happen next.” Andrew said.

“See now we are getting somewhere…” his mother replied.

Otis sighed and picked himself up and dragged his feet over to the door. He went downstairs as quietly as he could collecting his shoes, coat, and backpack on his way to the front door. He slipped on his trainers and coat and slowly turned the door handle. He eased out the door and shut it behind him noiselessly. He slung his backpack on and hopped on his bike. He didn’t know where his was going to go, but he knew it had to be somewhere he didn’t risk running into someone who needed sex therapy.

 

✧ ✧ ✧

 

Otis was biking aimlessly through town when he saw a sign that read “Grand Opening: Used Books for Sale and Trade” pointing him in the direction of the old tailor’s... Richard? Rodger? His name wasn’t important, the fact that he never had any clients is. It’s not surprising that a man who refused to tailor any suit that he didn’t like couldn’t keep enough business to stay open.

Otis decided to check the new place out, he couldn’t claim he was an avid reader, but enjoyed a good biography every now and again; and he didn’t despise it like some other kids did. He locked his bike to the rack outside and made his way through the open door. The interior wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for a used bookstore, it was crammed, and the shelves didn’t look too organized, but there was a lot of natural light and a few worn looking sofas. There were no obvious customers, and only one man working behind the counter in the middle of the store. Said man looked up and grunted in greeting. Otis politely smiled back but the man had already gone back to looking at the papers spread out in front of him. Otis started strolling around the shelves waiting for something to peak his interest.

The store seemed much smaller on the outside, and even though there were bookcases and seating options stuffed in every available space Otis had still only covered about half of the shelves in the ten minutes he had been in there. He turned the corner and came upon a small alcove created by sandwiching a loveseat between two walls and a bookshelf. Maeve Wiley was spread across it reading a paperback. There was a decent sized window flush with the back of the loveseat casting good light on the pages of the book; and Otis could just make out the words ‘lighthouse’ on the front cover. She didn’t look like the type of girl to be reading up on lighthouses; she had pink and blonde hair, a nose ring, and she was wearing thick eyeliner. Her nails were painted black and her layered jewelry shone in the light. She seemed like she should be reading something about rebellion or fighting for a righteous cause.

“Are you just going to stare at me all day?” She asked. She still hadn’t looked up from her book, but Otis felt pinned.

“Um. Sorry, I just- uh.. You don’t seem the type to read about lighthouses,” Otis replied. He closed his eyes in shame and looked at the ground. ‘You don’t seem the type to like lighthouses’ he mocked himself in his head. Why did he say that?

She leveled him with a stare, “What type do I seem then?”

Otis gaped, he had a knack for sticking his foot in his mouth. In an effort explain himself he said, “I don’t know why I said that. I don’t really believe in types, they play into a patriarchal expectation of women… at least that’s what my mum says.”

“Do you always listen to what your mummy tells you,” She asked plainly as she squinted at him.

“Uh- no. I mean sometimes, but not all the time… not that I speak to her about everything… it’s just- she’s a sex therapist so she’s very clear about societal expectations placed on women… or just people really…” Otis cringed internally. Did he really just tell Maeve Wiley his mum was a sex therapist?

Maeve smiled and closed her book revealing the full cover to Otis, ‘To the Lighthouse’ it read. “It’s fiction...” she said, “informational books about lighthouses don’t really appeal to me.”

“Right.” Otis let out an awkward chuckle.

“Well, I’ll see you around Otis.” Maeve opened her book and resumed reading. She obviously hoped Otis would take the hint and leave her to her book, so he did. As he was exiting the store he realized he had never told Maeve his name. He rode his bike back home with a smile on his face, and a prayed that “captain” and his wife would be gone by the time he got home.

 

✧ ✧ ✧

 

Maeve was walking home from the bookstore, it was warm outside, but she still caught a chill from the shade the trees cast along the path to her home. She emerged from the path and made her way into the neatly organized caravan park she had called home the past five years. Her brother had been in a rehabilitation center further north and he was supposed to be home in a month. He was actually due to be home sooner, but he had suffered some setbacks at the clinic.

Maeve made her way to her caravan, playing with the keys between her fingers as she walked. Before she could get to the door she was stopped short by Cynthia. “‘Ello dearie,” she said solemnly, “I hate to pester you, but unfortunately I need your rent.” Maeve sighed, she knew she was bound to run into her sooner or later, but she had hoped she could avoid her until Monday. She had got a job at the used bookstore, the owner was an old friend of her mum’s and she's assuming he pitied her enough to give her the job. She wasn’t getting paid much, but she didn’t really have to do much of anything. Her first pay cheque was supposed to be given to her Monday, she didn’t have hope it would cover the whole rent in addition to the backlogged payments she owed, but it would be something.

“I know Cynthia, my pay cheque should go through by Monday, if you can give me until then I would appreciate it.”

Cynthia looked shocked, “Oh you’ve got a job then?"

Maeve tried not to be offended, but with her family history, the judgement was not unwarranted. Her father fucked off before she was born and her mother was currently serving her fifth year of an eleven year sentence. Her brother was in rehab after getting arrested for standing in oncoming traffic when he was high off his tits and before yesterday she was making money by writing essays for lazy classmates.

“Yeah, it's at the bookstore that just opened up,” Maeve explained conversationally.

Cynthia raised her brows, “Good for you… Monday then.”

Maeve smiled politely and walked past Cynthia. She turned her key into the lock and walked into her caravan. It wasn’t much, in fact it was pretty dingy. Maeve had collected an assortment of homey items to decorate the place throughout the years: the couch was covered in blankets and throw pillows and she had found a new coffee table for sale a the local charity shop. The curtains that covered the many windows dimmed the already dark caravan, but it eased Maeve’s mind knowing she had some semblance of privacy.

Maeve sat her bag down on the kitchen table and pulled out her book. She moved to the couch and sat down. She couldn't help but think of her encounter with Otis. He was always a bit odd, but she knew he was kind. They sat next to each other in ceramics in year seven, she dropped her bowl and broke it. Ms. Kinsley hated her and Maeve knew she would get detention, but Otis offered to tell the teacher he accidentally hit it with his elbow. After that she noticed him around more, usually with Eric, but they never really crossed paths after that. Maeve didn’t have a lot of friends; her closest friend was Aimee. She talked to Jackson Marchetti for a term, but he told her he needed to focus on his future as a swimmer. They were still friendly and chatted if they saw each other in the hall.

Maeve was thinking of how she could earn enough money to cover the rest of her rent. She supposed she could write a couple of essays, but she didn’t know if she would have time to go to the library with her new job, and she needed as many hours as she could get. She’d figure something out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and leaving feedback, come say hi on Tumblr: netflixandchilis.tumblr.com


	2. When We Declare Ourselves Witches

“Dude, I can’t believe you still haven’t figured out how to wank,” Eric laughed. Eric did this at least twice a week during their bike ride to school, and up to three times a week outside of it. They were almost halfway through their journey to school at this point, so Otis had to give him credit, this teasing usually came up well before the halfway mark.

“I know Eric, It’s not like its hindering me, I just don’t feel the need to,” Otis replied.

Eric looked over to him and said seriously, “I know bro… it's just weird, innit?” Otis laughed and shook his head. They biked further along the path and were just coming out of the absurd amount of thicket surrounding Otis's home. Why his parents decided the middle of the forest was a good place to settle down he didn't know.

“Maeve Wiley knows my name,” Otis said. The fact that he hadn’t brought this up yet was surprising. He had a tendency to tell Eric everything that happened to him almost immediately after it happened; but for some reason he decided to keep this one to himself for a while (well 13 hours, but who’s counting).

“Really,” Eric asked. “She’s like proper cool now.”

Otis looked over at him offended, “So that means she can’t know who I am?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what it means,” Eric teased.

Otis huffed. “I can be cool. It’s not totally unbelievable she could know I exist.”

Eric rolled his eyes and leveled Otis with an unbelieving look, “You once had an asthma attack because Sarah Patton pushed you too hard on the swing.”

“I was nine and she was deceptively strong!” Otis shouted indignantly.

“How do you even know that she knows your name?” Eric decided to ask, bringing the conversation back to its roots.

Otis was quiet for a moment considering how much he should reveal. Should he tell Eric about judging her choice of book to her face or that he told her about his mother’s job. Maybe he could just omit those parts. The conversation only lasted a minute, although it felt as if it dragged on for hours. 

Before Otis could decide what parts to divulge Eric started laughing and glanced over at Otis, “Oh God man, what did you say?”

“I may have run into her at a bookstore and implied that the book she was reading didn’t seem very characteristic of her.” Otis stated.

“What do you know about Maeve Wiley’s characteristics?” Eric prodded.

“Nothing… which I told her, I explained that it wasn’t right for me to make a snap judgement on her book choice and I apologised.” Otis shut his mouth firmly, determined to keep the rest from Eric.

“And…” Eric prompted. Apparently he knew Otis better than he thought.

“It's possible that I told her my mother was a sex therapist,” he elaborated.

Eric howled with laughter and didn’t stop for at least a full minute. “Sex therapist… classic,” Eric said aloud. “I heard she bit Simon Furthassle on the scrote,” he said conversationally, “and now its all wonky.”

“I don’t believe that,” Otis replied.

Eric laughed, “Yeah, everyone calls her cock biter now!”

Otis chuckled and biked faster to pass Eric.

 

✧ ✧ ✧

 

The toilet block behind the gymnasium was decrepit; there was graffiti covering nearly every corner of the walls that were still standing and there was a family of slugs that had made a home in the busted toilet in the corner. It was the perfect place for a midday smoke. Maeve and Aimee were sitting on the top of two of the only toilets left in the room. They were both smoking a cigarette and looking out the partially opened windows above the toilets. The courtyard was full of students waiting to go to class, across the way Maeve saw Otis. He was with Eric, as usual, and they seemed to be laughing at something on Eric’s phone. Otis’s eyes were sparkling with mirth and he looked genuinely happy. How someone could be so entertained on school grounds, Maeve did not understand.

“Who’re ya lookin’ at,” Aimee asked. She stood and walked over to Maeve’s window trying to angle her head the same as Maeve’s to get an eye on who was holding her attention.

Maeve cleared her throat and scanned the courtyard. Anwar, Olivia, and Ruby (or “The Untouchables” as they had recently been christened)  were ambling from the far end of the field to the stairs catty-cornered to the building they were currently in.

“The Untouchables are coming over here,” Maeve answered. Aimee straightened and started frantically looking around. She threw her cigarette to the ground and furiously stomped it out.

“Ah- shit, they’re looking for me! I’ve gotta go.” With that, Aimee made her way to the door, before she walked out she looked at Maeve through the gaping hole in the wall between them. “Ta-ra, lad.”

Maeve smiled, “See ya later, pet.”

 

✧ ✧ ✧

 

Otis was sitting on the pathetic couch in the sixth form common room eating his ham sandwich. He was waiting on Eric to arrive so they could revise for biology together. Otis looked up checking the hall through the window for any signs of Eric. Instead he saw Maeve Wiley, she looked over and met eyes with him. Otis smiled awkwardly with a mouth full of sandwich and waved. Maeve made a gesture to his lips and the walked away. Otis reached for his lips and his fingers came away with a smear of mayonnaise. He was doomed to be a loser for the rest of his life.

In the grand scheme of things being a loser wasn’t so bad. He had friends, well... a friend; but it's not like he wasn't  generally likable. Plus, there was no pressure to maintain any sort of status. That seemed to be an ongoing theme with the popular students. Just look at Ruby, she spent thousands of pounds in the last few weeks trying to keep up with designer trends when only a few people in the whole school could even tell the difference between the real thing and a knock off. So yeah, Otis was happy with his place in the social food chain. Maybe the more he told himself that, the less pathetic he would feel. 

 

✧ ✧ ✧

 

Later that day Otis decided to make another run to the bookstore in town. He was hoping he could find a book to read when he was barred from listening to music during his mother’s appointments. It had absolutely nothing to do with Maeve Wiley.

The store was just as barren today as it was yesterday. Otis decided to pick up where he left off and made his way back to the alcove in the back corner of the store. As he rounded the corner he saw Maeve sprawled on the loveseat once again; this time reading Jane Eyre.

“Are you stalking me,” Maeve asked. She kept her focus on the book, but her eyes had stopped reading across the pages.  

“How do you do that?” Otis asked. 

Maeve looked up at him. “Do what?”

“How can you tell when someone walks up to you without looking up?” Otis crossed his arms and waited for her answer.

“I’m a witch,” she replied deadpan. “I’m also not deaf,” she elaborated.

Otis huffed a laugh, “but how did you know it was me?”

Maeve paused for a moment. “You never answered my question.”

Otis uncrossed his arms and let them hang by his side. “I’m not stalking you, I just thought I’d pick up where I left off yesterday… you know- browsing.” He gestured to the shelves to his right.

Maeve pushed herself up into a seated position and put her feet on the floor. She patted the cushion next to her signaling for Otis to join her. Otis gaped for an instant before dropping his bag and falling into the seat.

It was quiet, but Otis didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know why Maeve had invited him to sit down, or if that’s even what she meant; maybe she was wiping away crumbs and he just-

“So your mum’s a sex therapist,” is what broke the awkward silence.

Otis closed his eyes and groaned. “Look if you could please pretend I never said that I would really appreciate it. Unless, you need help in that area- I could probably get you an appointment. Not that I think you would have problems- and there’s nothing to be ashamed of if you-” Maeve cut him off with obnoxious laughter. She calmed down and she took a deep breath before responding.

“No. God no. I just was going to ask what that was like.” She smiled at him. “I can’t imagine how weird that would be.”

“Yes!” Otis shouted. “Sorry, people normally think it would be cool or something, but it's the most awkward thing.” he chuckled. “I can’t do anything without  being evaluated and she’s constantly trying to make sure I’m ‘on track’ with all of my peers by asking really invasive questions-” Otis looked over at Maeve who was biting her lip to stifle her laughter. “Sorry, too much information.”

“It’s okay. Are there any advantages to having a sex therapist for a mum?” Maeve's facial expression held a note of curiosity, but not judgment or teasing like he expected.  

At this point Otis figured there was nothing to lose. If he had the opportunity to talk to someone who understood how weird his mothers vocation was, he was going to take advantage. “Sometimes I can hear her appointments through the walls… or air vents; that entertaining most of the time. And she wouldn’t freak if she found condoms in my room or anything," Otis paused contemplating what he had just said, "actually, she probably would." he corrected mindlessly. 

Maeve looked at him curiously. “Why would she freak?”

Otis stumbled on his words, “uh- she’s worried I’m not engaging myself enough. And if she thought I was having sex she would assume I’m ‘blossoming’ or something.” He elaborated, “at least that would put an end to all of the unjust concern about my development.”

“Why don’t you just pretend you have then?” Maeve asked.

Otis sighed, “It's not that simple. She would ask questions and want to know who I was having sex with or how long it lasted or if I made sure to ‘pleasure my partner’” he said the last three words with air quotes.

Maeve laughed, “Have you never watched porn? Just use that as a reference.”

Otis had never watched porn, or more that ten seconds of it, but he didn’t want Maeve to know that. “Porn is very unrealistic…” Otis paused, ” I’m not a very good liar either.” Just then his phone started ringing. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the screen.

“Speak of the devil,” Maeve said.

Otis smiled and answered the call. “Hello, mum.”

“Darling! Are you coming home soon, I have to finish working on my latest chapter and I didn’t know if we were still doing the movie tonight,” his mother’s voice called through the speaker.

Otis quickly glanced at Maeve. “Yeah I’ll be home by six.”

“Okay, see you soon."

“Bye mum.” Otis sighed. “I’ve got to go.” He stood up and gathered his backpack from the ground.

“Bye Otis." Maeve opened her book and resumed her previous position, draping herself across the cushions.

 

✧ ✧ ✧

 

Otis was sitting on the couch with a  half-empty bowl of popcorn in his lap and Pretty Woman playing on the television. His mother sat next to him with a dwindling bowl of crisps. He hadn’t stopped thinking about what Maeve said at the bookstore. Maybe he could convince his mother that he was having sex, or at least had had sex at least once. He assumed she would know him enough to see through the lie, but if he concocted a believable one maybe he could get away with it. Otis knew in order to tell a believable lie it has to hold some semblance of truth. So he worked from there; if he had lost his virginity, what would have had to had happened. For starters, there would have been clear consent and communication; and if he didn’t claim this there would be a lecture about it. He would've had to known and trust the person. He wouldn’t have dove right in, there would've needed to be some sort of ease in. So someone he trusts, who he can communicate well with, and he has known long enough to develop a physical relationship… Eric. Otis internally shivered… so back to square one.

“Otis, are you alright. You’ve been awfully quiet.” Otis shook from his stupor and noticed the movie had been paused. His mother looked at him with a furrow in her brows.

Otis cleared his throat gave her a tight lipped smile, “Yeah, mum. Just thinking about my biology project.”

His mother took both of the bowls from their laps and placed them on the coffee table before she angled her body toward him on the couch. That’s her ‘I feel you’re hiding something from me and I want to know what it is’ stance. Otis sighed and relaxed heavily into the cushions.

“Are you having difficulty in school, are you getting picked on or bullied? You know I might have a book on that in my office,” she moved to stand up and walk to said office.

Otis sat up grabbed her arm before she could fully stand and pulled her back down. “It's nothing,” he assured her.

She fell back onto the couch and looked to Otis with concern, “Are you sure sweetheart? You’ve been acting strange the past couple of days.”

Otis tensed. He really didn’t feel like getting into a conversation about… anything really. He built his resolve and put on a happy face. “Mum, I really am fine. I don’t want to discuss my personal life any further right now.” That usually kept her off of his back for at least a couple of days. Maybe in that time he could come up with a plan.

His mother nodded, turned back to the television, and played the movie. The characters were talking on the screen, but Otis’s mind was still miles away.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I edited this whole chapter listening to Greta Van Fleet so I was amazingly inspired. As always, let me know if you catch any mistakes or have any notes on the chapter and let me know suggestions of what you want next. Thank you so much for reading and leaving kudos! Come say hi on Tumblr: netflixandchilis.tumblr.com

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know any and all feedback you have for me and tell me what you want to see in upcoming chapters!


End file.
